I gulp as I hear the training regiment,
'There is no need to worry, Lucas I have Isla who would make potions for me. So I don't have to worry.' I said to myself.
Yato observed my resolve and continued, "Using the gravity chamber will accelerate your physical training, but the strain on your body will be immense. It's not a method for the faint-hearted, Lucas. You'll need to endure both the mental and physical toll, and there's a risk of severe injuries if not done cautiously." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩
I took a deep breath, absorbing the weight of his words. The allure of a faster training method clashed with the impending challenges it presented.
"Are you up for it, Lucas?" Yato asked, his silver eyes searching mine.
I nodded, determination burning within me. "I'll do whatever it takes to master the Sword of Madness and become a formidable swordsman."
Yato acknowledged my resolve with a solemn nod. "Very well. When We'll return to Nova Academy, you'll begin your training in the gravity chamber but for now, you should rest."
I nodded my head as my eyes began to become heavy and soon I was asleep.
The next morning, the fourth day of my training trip...
Standing outside of the cave in a snowy field, I glance at Uato who is in front of me.
There is still some pain in my body after trying to use the sword of madness, the first form of Infernal Demonic Art but it's bearable after having a good night's sleep and drinking two high-grade potions.
'I'm not going to use that sword art until I'm sure enough my body can withstand its pressure.' I thought bitterly. The sword art was powerful, very powerful but my body wasn't ready yet.
"Lucas your senses are sharp?" Yato asked as he stretched his body.
"They are," I said with confidence in my voice.
After reincarnating in my novel, I made sure to keep my sense for anything, so I'm sure that they are pretty sharp enough.
"Is that so? Well glad to hear that." Saying that Yato vanished from his spot.
And in the next moment
Caught off guard and because of how fast the attack was, I was unable to react on time causing me to groan out loud as I felt a couple of my ribs crack a little. Staggering back and clutching onto my chest, I started coughing.
"Cough…cough…damn that hurts!"
What the hell was that about? Attacking me so suddenly when I wasn't even prepared.
"Hey, why did you attack me so suddenly?" I asked Yato as I friend on the ground.
Yato who appeared back in his position looked at me and chuckled slightly
"Look like your senses aren't as sharp as you claim to be, Lucas."
Damnit I still feel the pain from that kick of his.
"Of course, they aren't. You are just so...so..so..."
"Cool? I know that." Yato cut me off in mid-sentence
'No! I mean he is cool but I won't be saying it on his face.' I thought so as I groaned and stood up on my legs.
"Lucas, the world won't wait for you to be prepared. In battles, surprises are a constant. You need to be ready for the unexpected," Yato said with a hint of amusement.
I grumbled, still nursing my sore ribs, but deep down, I knew there was wisdom in his actions. The path of a swordsman wasn't a stroll; it was a relentless journey filled with challenges.
"Now, let's try this again. Be prepared," Yato announced, his stance shifting into one of readiness.
This time he wasn't going to catch me off guard like before…
However, before I could react, appearing next to my ears and lightly whispering, I suddenly felt my body fly towards the other side.
Feeling my back become numb due to my body impacting against the cave wall, it took me a couple of seconds to recover from my daze. Looking up, I soon found Yato's blue eyes deeply staring at me from above.
"You're not using all of your senses. Don't just rely on what you see in front of you and use your other senses. You rely too much on your sight and focus on your otsensesense too."
What he said made sense.
I thought my senses were sharp but I guess wrong, I relied too much on my eyesight, and I created a fatal weakness for myself.
Had Yato not pointed this out to me today, I would've never learned of this.
Taking out and flicking the lid of a potion open, I quickly downed it and proceeded to heal my injuries.
Taking a stance, I stared intently at where Yato was. This time, rather than just staring at him, I also made sure to keep my ears alert.
Combat training was tough but straightforward. After Yato explained what I needed to do, no words were exchanged between me and me. I instantly understood his intentions.
Faintly smiling, Yato nodded his head in approval.
Thus for the next two hours or so Yato ruthlessly beat me up like a sandbag. At the end of the two hours, I was completely exhausted and covered in bruises. My face was beaten black and blue and if not for the healing potions that Yato provided me every ten minutes or so, I would've long passed out.
"Good, Lucas. Your endurance is improving, but there's still much work to be done," Yato stated, looking at me with a hint of approval.
I panted heavily, my body aching from the relentless training. Bruises adorned my skin like a warrior's paint, and my muscles protested every move.
Yato's eyes scanned me, assessing the toll the training took. "Rest for a moment. Recovery is as crucial as the training itself."
As I eased myself onto the cold ground, I couldn't help but appreciate the gravity of Yato's teachings. The physical and mental strain pushed me to my limits, but it was in those moments of vulnerability that growth occurred.
"Master, why is this training so brutal?" I questioned, still catching my breath.
Yato, sitting nearby, regarded me with a calm intensity. "Brutal, yes, but necessary. Combat is unforgiving, and your body must become resilient. Each bruise, each ache – they are reminders of your progress."
His words resonated, and I nodded in acknowledgement. The path to mastery was indeed paved with the sweat and blood of relentless effort.
"Lucas, the sword is an extension of your body, and your senses are the guides. This training is not just about physical prowess; it's about forging a deep connection with your weapon and the world around you," Yato explained, his gaze piercing.
I absorbed his wisdom, my mind clearing as I envisioned the intricate dance of blade and senses. The snowy field became a canvas for the art of combat, each movement a brushstroke in the painting of mastery.
"Rest, but keep your mind sharp. We continue when you're ready," Yato stated, rising to his feet.
I nodded, grateful for the brief respite. The snowy landscape seemed to embrace the struggle, and as I closed my eyes, I visualized the fluidity Yato possessed, aiming to emulate it in the battles to come.
The training ground echoed with the whisper of the wind, a symphony of nature witnessing the journey of a swordsman striving for perfection.
After getting one hour's rest Yato told me to do swords, saying that it would benefit me for the sword of madness art and he also wanted to see how I swing.
Swish, Swish, Swish—!!
Performing swings came naturally to me. After all, it was something I had practised the most after coming to this world.
This comes naturally to me because my profession is swordsmanship.
I nodded my head as thinking his easy is this.
In a remarkably short period, my swings began to become more precise and cleaner than before.
Yes, there was no denying it now. My skills were undeniably improving.
"No, no, no! You've got it all wrong!"
…Oh, come on! What now?!
Yato walked up to me, As he came to stand before me, Yati bellowed, "You're exerting too much strength in a single swing, causing a delay before you can transition into the next one!"
"What does that mean?" I inquired in a confused tone.
Yato let out a weary sigh, He then summoned a sleek black spear into his hand.
"Swing at me," Yato commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Still confused, I complied with his instructions.
Firmly gripping my sword, I raised it high before bringing it down in a powerful swing towards Yato.
But with ease, Yato sidestepped, evading my attack effortlessly.
Before I could even process what had occurred, I felt the cold edge of the blade pressed against my neck.
My gaze followed the blade's path, tracing it back to the shaft and the hands that held it.